"Two." And he misses them fiercely, although that at least he masters a non-commental expression over. Not that it matters, since he's fairly obvious about it as soon as he opens his mouth but it's the thought that counts. "James Carmicheal should be turning nine soon, maybe a month if my times aren't all out of wack. He's a sunny little dork; really into the proper ways to dig up dinosaurs and the like. And Patricia! She was thirteen when I left and cocky with it!"

Malcolm reaches forward to tug the material sharply between his hands, looking for a weakness in the weave as he continues, turning to roll his eyes deliberately and expressively at Cassandra. "The big dark eyes routine never worked for me, you know. Too gawky otherwise. But Patricia Lorriane? Gawky just looks sort of long-limbed on her so the big black eyes on her stupid face just get her her way with everyone."

Giving another few bolts of fabric a look over he makes a few faces at Cassandra. "What about you -- any siblings you miss?"

In a few minutes he's going to start asking the merchant questions and making faces like they're shockingly over-priced.